


Lord of the Rings Drabbles - Het

by Celandine



Category: Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Drabble, Drabble Collection, Drama, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2004-09-30
Updated: 2015-07-10
Packaged: 2017-10-13 03:17:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 1,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/132257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Celandine/pseuds/Celandine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Drabbles involving a variety of het pairings in the Lord of the Rings-verse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Air of Ithilien

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Faramir and Éowyn return home.

It is odd, I have always thought, that simply crossing a river should make so much difference. Yet whenever Éowyn and I return from visiting Minas Tirith, the first breeze from the eastern shoreline carries the scent of home with it. Ithilien – there is a fragrance there, hard to capture in words: a subtle blend of grass and flowers, wood and water, and just a hint of tang from the bitter air of Mordor over the mountains. I inhale it like a drowning man come ashore. Éowyn laughs at me, but admits that it breathes home to her as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This drabble was written for tanaquilotr's birthday, on the HASA birthday drabbles forum.


	2. Distance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Boromir visits Meduseld en route to Rivendell.

The king’s niece was waiting at his elbow with the guest-cup when Boromir brought his thoughts back from unknown Imladris to noisy Meduseld.

"Will my lord drink?" Éowyn’s voice was light, indifferent, as she held the cup out to him with slim white fingers.

He drank deeply, and returning it, said, "It is pleasant tonight to feast at ease, since tomorrow I shall depart into unknown dangers." His eyes met hers, and he saw in them a mingled despair and longing, which he did not understand. She said nothing, however, merely bowing and moving on to serve the next warrior.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for annmarwalk on LJ, as part of my 2004 holiday drabble gift offering. She wanted Boromir/Éowyn, she got it (though no smut).


	3. Preparation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finduilas dresses for her wedding.

She wished that her mother could be there to see her wearing the red silk dress that was traditional for brides in Gondor. The shimmering fabric clung to her like a second skin, outlining her figure without being too revealing. Her maid had dressed her hair into an intricate crown of braids, and now set upon it the silver-and-pearl coronet that had been her grandmother's. The swan's wings of it nestled against the dark strands. She took a deep breath and rose.

"I am ready, Father."

Her father tucked her hand under his arm. "Denethor is waiting for you, Finduilas."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the wedding of Roheryn and NZStrider at TOR.n.


	4. Grief

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Denethor, after his wife's death.

Through the framing stone of the tower window, the stars shone cold and pitiless in the black sky. Snippets of memories passed through Denethor's mind:

 _...a slight figure in red silk, silver and pearls gleaming in her hair  
...the mingled scent of saltwater and roses  
...an infant's wail hushed with soft crooning  
...soft skin against his own, moist with perspiration in the summer heat_

He clenched his fists until the nails cut into his palms, welcoming the minor pain as a distraction. Duty called, duty always called. _The Dark Lord take duty._

The Lord Steward did not weep that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for anglachel1 on LJ, as part of my 2004 holiday drabble gift offering.


	5. Firstborn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The birth of Maedhros.

Maedhros was born just as the light of Laurelin was waning, and that of Telperion waxing. During the early part of Nerdanel's labor, Fëanor had busied himself about the forge, but he came to her well before the birth and was there when his son first drew breath. With an expression of great pride, he showed the outpouring of his soul to his love, Nerdanel, yet asked, "Should he be so small?"

Nerdanel laughed wearily. "Had he been much larger, I do not see how he could have been born." Fëanor knelt and kissed her cheek, their son between them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for darkladyothsith on LJ, who challenged me to write about Fëanor either at the birth of his first son or the creation of the Silmarils, and use the sentence, "With an expression of great pride, he showed the outpouring of his soul to his love."


	6. Omen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Faramir and Éowyn await the birth of their first child.

Her hair gleams gold in the last rays of the sun streaming into our rooms. She leans out through the stone embrasure, heedless of any danger, and calls, "Faramir."

I go to her, slipping my arms around her waist, now thick with the impending birth of our first child. "Éowyn, love. What is it?"

She points to the sky. "The swans. Do you see them?"

At first I do not, then I spy the great white wings cleaving the air as they travel north again for nesting-time. I nod against her shoulder.

"It is a good omen," she tells me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written on my own hook, and posted as part of a pre-Valentine Two for Tuesday at the TOR.n Main discussion board.


	7. Berries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rosie remembers the summer of Sam's courting.

He fed me strawberries, that first summer of our love, holding them one by one to my lips until his hands and my mouth were stained red and sticky with the juices. When strawberry season was over, we walked along the path beside The Water and searched out the brambles, heavy with dark ripe fruit, treacherous with prickling strands. Now even when he is dressed as befits the Mayor, with a heavy gold chain across his dark-green waistcoat, I still see him proffering me berries one by one, the dappled light flickering on his face, his eyes bright with hope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written on my own hook, and posted as part of a pre-Valentine Two for Tuesday at the TOR.n Main discussion board.


	8. Evening Star

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The birth of Arwen.

_Surely it should not take so long? Or have I forgotten?_ Elrond took Celebrían's hands in his own as her face twisted, reflecting the pangs of labor. She had not cried out, but a sheen of sweat gleamed on her skin, and her eyes were closed.

"Once more," the midwife encouraged. "I see the head."

Moments later, Elladan and Elrohir, dark and slender, flanked their father on either side as he held their newborn sister in his arms. "What will you name her?" they asked in chorus.

Elrond looked at his spouse. "Arwen," Celebrían said softly. "Her name is Arwen."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For an LJ meme, arwen_lune wanted "a happy Elrond-and-children moment."


	9. Someone to Watch Over Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Denethor at Finduilas's deathbed.

I watch while you sleep, for soon you will be here for me to watch no longer. You stir restlessly, your face drawn and white in the moonlight that falls in through the window, its shutters opened wide to the fresh air. It is not the sounds of the night that disturb you, though, neither the drowsy chirp of the insects nor the sleepy calls of the nightwatchmen in the city below, but rather the pain that gnaws into your very being, waiting to steal you from me forever. My pulse beats your name like a prayer. Stay, my Finduilas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was requested by annmarwalk at LJ, who gave me "I watch while you sleep..." as a prompt and left all else open. Denethor took over my brain.


	10. Of Winters Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arwen remembers winters in Imladris.

It seldom snowed here in Minas Tirith, though the distant peaks bore their white caps proudly. Arwen walked along the parapet of the city, one night in midwinter, clad only in her gown and a light shawl against the wind.

"You look sorrowful, my love." Aragorn spoke from behind her, and she leaned back into his arms.

"Do you remember the winters in Imladris?" she asked him. "How the moonlight looked on the snow, so pure and cold?"

"I remember." His voice was rough in her ear. "The beauty of your father's dwelling was nothing to that of his daughter."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for forodwaith for holiday 2006. She asked for Arwen and gave the prompt "moonlight on snow."


	11. Loss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Boromir will have no little brother or sister this year.

The bustle was over, now. Denethor had disappeared into the room where Finduilas lay, drowsy from the wine and herbs they had given her to stanch the bleeding. Ecthelion waited outside, wanting to assure his son that he need not take up his usual duties. Gondor could wait a day, even two, for a beloved wife.

A small hand tugged at his own.

"Grandpapa, am I not to have a little brother or sister after all?" Boromir's round face was troubled under unruly dark hair.

Ecthelion lifted his grandson into his arms. "Not today," he said soberly. "Perhaps another year."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the sequel/prequel meme, for roh_wyn, who wanted something a year after "Courting the Lady." I perhaps cheated slightly by going one year after the epilogue, rather than one after the main story...


	12. What Is It Worth?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Denethor regrets his lost first love.

"Belegond of Ethring sends good news," Ecthelion said.

"Oh?" Denethor looked up from his own work. "Is the harvest better than expected?"

"That would be too much to expect. No, his son Baran has at last had a son, after three daughters. You recall Baran's wife, I think? Your sister Sellas's friend."

"I remember." _Lotheluin..._ She was the only woman he had ever loved.

"You may send our congratulations then." Ecthelion pushed the letter over to him. "I wish we had such news to share of you."

"I know, Father." Denethor's fingernails bit into his palms. "I know my duty."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for telperion1 for the prequel-sequel meme; she requested "Lotheluin, 10 years later." The title is from "Suffer the Children" by Tears for Fears.


	13. Fit for a Queen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This new luxury is fit for a queen.

Trade with Far Harad brought exotic luxuries. Glancing at the moon's position in the darkening sky Aragorn waited patiently as the merchant extolled his goods' remarkable qualities.

"You taste it first yourself," the man insisted in heavily accented speech.

Aragorn acquiesced, and the servant brought him a cup of a strange thick dark beverage.

"It must be prepared correctly for the best flavor. I write out directions for each purchaser," the merchant said as Aragorn sipped cautiously.

The flavor rolled over his tongue in velvet spiciness. This would be a gift truly fit for his queen, this chocolate, he thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for mrowe for holiday 2007.


	14. Attachment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Faramir and Éowyn settle in Ithilien.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Éowyn/Faramir. For Cruisedirector who gave the prompt "spring" for this pairing.

Though Faramir knew Ithilien as well as any man living did, his knowledge was that of a warrior: where cover might be found from which to harass the enemy, where supplies might be hidden, where his men might safely lie to sleep at night.

Éowyn came to the land with fresh eyes and a sure instinct for finding the best place for each need they could foresee. Sometimes they found ruins that attested to previous houses in a spot she chose; sometimes it was evident that her judgment was better, as when a decayed village had clearly flooded repeatedly.

All the while they surveyed and planned for Ithilien's resettlement, they looked also for lands where their own estate could lie, as King Elessar had insisted. One day Éowyn discovered a spring nestled against the forest's edge, a wide grassy sweep before it, perfect for tillage or horse-breeding or both.

They slept that night in their tent on the site that Faramir had chosen for their dwelling, and set about building it that very year. When their son Elboron was born, Faramir insisted that he be bathed in water taken directly from the house-spring, to bind him close to the land.


End file.
